


Twenty-One and Over

by brookebond



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Clubbing, John has friends, M/M, Misunderstandings, Size Kink, john is a twink in denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 16:45:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11294664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookebond/pseuds/brookebond
Summary: It was all just a misunderstanding.





	Twenty-One and Over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pinkys_creature_feature](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkys_creature_feature/gifts).



> The prompt for this was: Who's really in control.  
> This is another one that I'm not entirely sure I hit the mark on! But I had fun writing it all the same!
> 
> Thank you deinvati for the super speedy beta and help with the ending!  
> Thank you jambees221b for cheering me on!

John shouldn’t have been there. He was on a path to becoming a cop and couldn’t risk it all by getting caught doing something as stupid as sneaking into a club with a fake ID, but that was exactly what he was doing. His friends had gotten him the ID as a joke but had forced him to join them in surveying the new club: Shadows.

It had been open all of two weeks and was apparently the place to be. John didn’t care about staying on trend or being up-to-date with what was cool. His roomies did, though, and that was why John was standing in a long line, freezing his ass off.

The longer they waited, the more nervous John got. There were plenty of other clubs that would let him in without needing a fake ID. Sure, he wouldn’t be able to drink but that wasn’t a problem. John wasn’t much of a drinker anyway. He wondered if there was a way he could skip out on his friends without getting called out.

“Seriously, I might just go home,” John said, fingers sliding along the edge of the ID. According to the thin piece of plastic, his name was Jason Todd and he was already twenty-one. John was sure the bouncer was going to see straight through it.

“Don’t be such a wet blanket, Blake,” Andrew complained, nudging John with his shoulder.

The line moved steadily, many people getting turned away, John’s nerves fraying with every person that left in a huff.

As they shuffled forwards—huddling closer for warmth—John got glimpses of the bouncer. From what he could see, the guy was huge, intimidating despite sitting on a stool; a large coat wrapped around him, the lower half of his face hidden behind a red scarf. That made John shiver and wish he had worn something more substantial than holey jeans and a thin t-shirt. He was going to be lucky to make it inside the club before becoming hypothermic.

The group in front of them was allowed into the club and John’s friends stepped up. One by one they were let in until it was just John handing over his ID, avoiding the bouncer’s eyes. Thumping bass filtered through the doors as his friends entered the club.

“Quiet night?” John asked, trying to play it cool while his heart pounded.

The bouncer grunted and handed the card back.

John grabbed it, eyes flicking up when the bouncer wouldn’t let go. “Thanks,” he muttered, tugging it a little to get the ID back. It came with little resistance and John could feel the bouncer’s eyes on his back right up until the door closed.

Inside the club was loud, so much louder than John had anticipated. He could feel the bass in his chest, a steady rhythm vibrating through him. His lips twisted up as his friends crowded around him, passing him a glass of something. It was clear and John took a large gulp, assuming it was water. He choked, the liquid burning on its way down.

His friends all laughed, clapping him on the back as they moved off to the dancefloor.

John downed the rest of the drink, wincing at the burn. He should have asked what it was, should have thought about that before he drank the whole thing.

He shrugged as the glass was taken away and someone pushed him further into the mass of bodies pressing against one another. The alcohol warmed him, a fuzzy sensation taking over.

Hands grabbed him, pulling John back till he was flush against a warm, hard body. He let his hands grip the person pressing against him, grinding back with abandon. It had been a few months since he’d had the pleasure of another person touching him, wanting him. He had forgotten how good it could feel.

He looked out, eyes locking with the bouncer as he danced. Now that he wasn’t so nervous about being denied entry, John let his gaze roam. The bouncer was large, easily twice John’s size—and very much his type—and was watching John dance with the mystery person.

John grinned when the bouncer raised a brow. He let himself go, tilting his head back to rest against the broad shoulder and revelling in the freedom the dimly lit club allowed him. He could be someone else, someone less controlled, someone  _ fun _ .

John turned around and pressed his lips to those of the person holding him.

Large arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer. John broke the kiss, grinding his hips into his dance partner to wolf-whistles from the people surrounding them.

—

Shadows quickly became their regular spot. Every weekend, John and his friends would go to the club. They were still carded each time, but John stopped being nervous. He figured that if he was going to get caught, it would have happened already.

That was why he was confident enough to go to the club alone.

None of his friends had been interested in going out. They were all too tired, apparently. John didn’t care that he had to go alone. Well, he  _ hadn’t _ cared right up until he stepped up and handed his ID over.

The bouncer looked at the card, staring at it long enough to make John shift uncomfortably. He should have made Andrew go with him. The bouncer had never looked at his ID that long when his friends were around. Going alone was a terrible, terrible idea.

To distract himself from freaking out, John let his gaze wander, admiring the bouncer. He was wearing the same coat and red scarf ensemble as the first time. John’s fingers twitched, wanting to tug the scarf down to see what he was hiding. He didn’t have a death wish, though. The bouncer was significantly larger than him and could probably crush him with half a thought. John shivered, trying to pass it off as being cold, not arousal.

The ID was held in front of John’s face, an impatient huff dragging John from his thoughts.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, grabbing the card, slipping it into his back pocket as he entered the club. He looked over his shoulder at the bouncer, meeting those dark eyes.

The door closed, cutting John off from the bouncer.

Even with the door closed, John felt exposed, as though the bouncer could see straight through him.

John shook off the bouncer’s lingering look and pushed through the crowd to get to the bar.

“What’s a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this?” a breathy voice asked as a hand gripped John’s hip.

He suppressed a shudder and turned to look at the person touching him.

The guy was the same height as John—possibly a little taller—but more muscular. The white t-shirt he was wearing was stretched too tightly over his chest that it showed hints of dark swirls. John was interested, very, very interested, even if the guy was using terrible lines.

“Looking for a bit of fun,” John replied, leaning in and pressing a hand to the guy’s chest.

“We could have a lot of fun,” the guy purred, pulling John closer. “What are you drinking?”

“Same as you,” John said with a smile.

The guy smirked and got two beers, pressing one into John’s hand with a lingering touch.

Going to the club alone was turning out to be the best decision he had ever made.

“Your boyfriend looks a little jealous,” the guy said, breaking John out of his self-congratulatory thoughts.

“Boyfriend?”

The guy nodded over John’s shoulder and he followed that gaze, eyes catching on the bouncer.

“Not my boyfriend,” John said, not looking away from the bouncer. He wondered if it was his break or if he was general security as well. Either way, John didn’t care. He had someone interested in him and John was going to make the most of it.

John turned around, ready to make some flirty comment but the white t-shirt guy was gone. That was disappointing.

John took a swig of the beer as he surveyed the crowd, looking for someone, anyone. After the moment with white t-shirt guy, John wanted to go home with someone.

John sweet-talked three other guys into buying him drinks, though none of them were interesting enough to go home with. Apparently all the boring people had decided to surround John.

He was finishing his fourth drink when he spotted a slim guy with a red scarf tied loosely around his neck. It was familiar, reminding John of something he couldn’t quite remember.

John set the bottle on the bar and set off towards the guy in the red scarf. He wondered how someone could be wearing a scarf in a club full of sweaty, writhing bodies.

Moving through the people was easy, a gentle push made each person move out of the way. People were more pliable when they were drunk.

“Hey,” John said, leaning in close to the guy so he could be heard over the thumping bass.

“Hello,” the guy answered curiously. His voice was slightly accented.

John liked foreign guys.

“You come here often?” he asked, the dumb question slipping from his lips before he could stop it. Stupid alcohol.

“You could say that,” red scarf chuckled.

John grinned, surprised by the response. He warmed, pressing closer. “Wanna dance?” John asked, gesturing towards the dancefloor.

“I don’t dance.”

“We could go somewhere… quieter,” John hummed.

Red scarf smirked at him and John preened. It was going much better than he had anticipated. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” John bristled.

“I have been informed you are off limits.”

“What the fuck?” John blurted, stepping back as though he’d been hit.

“Go home,” red scarf suggested softly.

John snorted and shook his head. “No thanks.” Like hell he was going to take advice from anyone that didn’t make his own rules. He wanted to ask who in the club thought they had some sort of claim over him but he held his tongue and turned away.

The bouncer was there, again, watching him. Clearly that guy was useless at doing his job if he spent most of his time inside the club watching patrons.

John huffed and surveyed the rest of the club, eyes landing on the guy in the white t-shirt from earlier. His lips spread wide as he stalked over, pressing his body against the muscled guy.

“Take me home,” John whispered, lips brushing against the guy’s ear.

Hands travelled up his sides, holding him close. “What about your boyfriend?”

“I already told you,” John huffed and nibbled the guy’s ear. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yours or mine, love?” the guy asked with a quiet moan.

“Yours,” John said. “Definitely yours.”

White t-shirt didn’t waste any time, grabbing John’s hand and dragging him from the club.

As they left, John let his gaze linger over the bouncer, noting the way his eyes followed John and his companion. He tried not to let it bother him, tried to ignore those piercing eyes as he followed white t-shirt home.

—

There was only one thing John wanted to do for his birthday: buy his own drinks legally.

His friends couldn’t understand that urge since John always seemed to get drinks bought for him constantly when they were out, but they had all been of age for months. The novelty had worn off for them. John was only just twenty-one and he wanted to do everything he was now legally allowed to. That may have been boring for his friends, but he promised to buy them drinks as well so they went to Shadows with him, happy for him to spend his money on them.

There was a new bouncer on the door, the usual intimidating, red scarf wearing guy not in sight. John was thrilled, excited that he could use his read ID to get into the club.

He was let in without a second glance. It was equal parts thrilling and disappointing. John felt like there should have been some sort of response, something made out of the fact that it was his birthday, but he was too thrilled to have been let in legally for a change.

John was three drinks into his evening and was bouncing on the dancefloor, letting the beat of the music carry him away. He was buzzed enough to dance with anyone that came near him, enjoying the feel of bodies swaying and pressing up against him. He didn’t have any plans to go home with anyone, but John was open to just about anything and was steadily becoming easier as the alcohol flowed through him. He was grinning at everyone, trying to encourage anyone to get closer. John was willing.

Someone slid up behind him, hands gripping his hips and pulling him back till John was flush against them.

John started grinding back, not caring that he probably looked like a little hussy. He was having far too good of a time to worry about what anyone else thought of him. Besides, feeling the guy’s cock harden against his ass was overwhelming. He felt powerful and John loved it.

He ran his hands over his body, looking out for someone else to catch his interest. The guy he was grinding against was hardly going to keep John’s attention all night. There had to be someone else in the club that was just as exciting.

His gaze fell on the bouncer who, once again, was inside and watching John. John wanted to figure that guy out and why he watched John every single time he was at the club. So John extricated himself from the guy he was dancing with without much trouble and staggered to the bar.

“It’s my birthday,” John said as he ordered another cosmo. His friends had teased him mercilessly the first time he got one but they tasted so damn good, John was never going to give them up. “I’m twenty-one today.”

The bartender slid the drink to John, blinking a few times but didn’t make a comment about John’s admission. He moved on to the next customer, leaving John with his pink drink.

John shrugged and took a sip, turning around to survey the crowd again. There were more people on the dancefloor and John couldn’t spot any of his friends. He wondered if they were still out there or if some of them had slipped away without him noticing. It was likely, John was a bit drunk and had probably just missed them saying goodbye.

He had only drunk a quarter of his cosmo when the bouncer made an appearance, standing right in front of John and blocking his view of the dancefloor.

“Yes?” John asked, a brow raised.

“Come,” the bouncer commanded, taking the glass from John and setting it on the bar before grabbing John’s arm and hauling him off.

John stumbled along for a few steps before he realised he was being taken away from the main area of the club.

“What the fuck? Where are you taking me?” he asked, tugging to try and get his arm back. The bouncer’s grip was impossible to break, though, and John ended up just hurting himself. “Let me go,” John demanded.

The bouncer let him go and pushed open a door, looking at John impatiently until John walked through and threw himself into one of the plush leather seats in the room.

It was obviously the manager’s office but there was only John and the bouncer, no one else in sight. That was interesting.

“Why’d you bring me here?” John asked before the door was closed. This was putting a damper on his evening. He was meant to be getting drunk and finding someone to fuck him stupid, not sitting in an office with some bear-looking guy. Though, John wondered if he could convince this guy to fuck him instead.

“You talk too loudly,” the bouncer replied, resting a hip against the desk and pulling the scarf off his face.

John stared, enraptured with the face that was suddenly exposed. The bouncer had puffy pink lips that had several white scars cutting across them. Instead of making it a gruesome sight, John was fascinated. He wondered what they would feel like against his own lips.

“What the fuck?” he managed to ask, though it was slowly because he was too caught up with that face to form a proper response.

“It is your birthday.”

“Yes,” John dragged out, not quite keeping up with where the bouncer was going. “Are you my birthday present?”

The bouncer stared at him making John squirm. “You are twenty-one.”

“Obviously.”

“Today.”

John swallowed hard, glancing away from the bouncer. Had he actually said that aloud?

“Did you think no one would notice?”

“Well, I kinda wish I hadn’t said it,” John commented honestly, keeping his gaze firmly off the bouncer.

“You have been in here illegally for months—”

“You let me in,” John countered, glancing over to the bouncer. If he was going to get called out for being underage, the fact that the bouncer had let him in  _ every single time _ had to be pointed out as well.

“Yes.”

“So don’t try playing some slighted employee because of me. You’ll get in as much trouble as me.”

The bouncer didn’t respond, didn’t do anything except stare at John, making him more uncomfortable. John usually acted first and thought later and he was pretty sure that was happening then, he could barely keep up with his mouth, knowing there were words flowing out that he couldn’t hold back.

“Can’t we come to some sort of agreement? Keep this whole thing between just us? No one else needs to know, right?”

“What do you have in mind?” the bouncer asked, brows raised.

That was good, very good. John could work with an interested party.

“I’m very talented with my mouth,” John hummed suggestively.

“Your mouth,” the bouncer repeated.

John nodded and slipped from the chair, crawling on his knees to the bouncers pants. He was reaching for the zipper when large hands gripped his wrists and pulled him up.

“I thought—”

“Wrong.”

John flushed and tugged his arms from the bouncers. He wondered if there were going to be bruises later from the bouncer gripping him tightly. The thought sent a shiver through him that he tried to pass off as being cold. It was partly true, being rejected had cooled him down significantly.

“What’s your name? I wanna talk to the owner,” John fumed. If he was going to be taken down by some burly goon, he wanted to make sure the goon went down along with him.

“Bane,” the bouncer answered. “I am the owner.”

John sputtered, embarrassment warring with indignation. The bouncer couldn’t be the owner. What game did this idiot think he was playing? John wasn’t a fucking idiot. Sure, maybe he  _ was _ drunk, but that didn’t mean his IQ had dropped a hundred points.

“Come off it,” John finally uttered, regaining control over his mouth.

“Why would I lie?” the bouncer—Bane said.

“So you don’t get in trouble. Seriously, we could make this whole thing go away if you just let me…” John trailed off, gesturing towards Bane’s pants.

“I have no interest in a drunk twink.”

John recoiled, taking a step back and colliding with the chair he had previously been sitting in. “What?”

“I have no—”

“I don’t need you to repeat it,” John said, holding up a hand.

“You asked—”

“I’m well aware,” John huffed. “Look, just forget it okay? Everything that happened in here. I won’t be back.” John didn’t wait for a response. He stalked out of the office and the club, leaving it all in his dust.

He couldn’t believe that had just happened, on his fucking birthday.

“A twink,” he muttered, digging his hands into his trousers pockets as he walked home, the whole scenario playing on repeat in his head.

He had never once been rejected for a blowjob before. In fact, people usually went out of their way to let John know how good he was. But whoever this Bane guy was, was apparently immune  _ and _ he thought John was a twink. That was just insulting. John was many things but a twink wasn’t one of them.

“I’ll fucking show him a twink,” John huffed as he got inside the apartment.

It was still empty, his friends obviously still at the club. He was never going to hear the end of it since he’d left them behind. That was a problem for later. Now, John had to sleep off his alcoholic stupor so he could come with a proper plan for showing Bane up.

John was going to bulk up and go back to the club. He was going to take satisfaction in proving Bane wrong.

“I am not a twink,” he muttered, collapsing into bed and falling asleep to thoughts of Bane’s pretty lips.

—

For once, John wasn’t nervous at all while waiting in line at the club. It had been months since he’d been back but he hadn’t forgotten what had happened the last time he had been there. It had played on his mind every time he was at the gym, working out.

He had followed through on his plan to bulk up and even his friends had commented on how much he had changed. Apparently it was all for the better, though.

They had wolf-whistled as he got ready that night, teasing him for choosing tight black jeans and a white t-shirt that showed off his newly defined muscles. John was out to prove a point, though, and he didn’t care what his friends said. He looked good and was ready to show off. He just hoped Bane still worked at Shadows. According to his friends, the burly man did still work there, though he wasn’t on the door as often.

Bane wasn’t on the door that night, which worked in John’s favour. It would give John the chance to search Bane out, to see if Bane was watching anyone else in the club or if it had just been John all along. That was going to be the most interesting thing. Maybe, despite Bane’s protests, he had liked John as he was before.

John used his real ID to get into the club that night, wincing at the look the new bouncer gave him at his legal name. “I know,” John muttered as he took the card back, slipping it into his back pocket and ignored the chuckle that followed him into the club. There was a reason he went by his middle name.

Shadows was more packed than John remembered it being a few months ago. He supposed it made sense that the place had gotten popular. It was by far the better club downtown. It was safe, which made all the difference late at night on the streets of Gotham.

John pushed his way to the bar, ordering a beer. He had a new persona he was trying to maintain and, since he had been there so often, John was sure ordering a cosmo would set off some sort of recognition from the bartender. As it was, the guy stared at him longer than was necessary, making John nervous. Maybe he didn’t look as different as he thought he did.

The music thumped loudly, reverberating through John’s chest as he watched people dance. A part of him wanted to get out there as well, lose himself in the crowd, but he had a purpose in being there: finding and confronting Bane.

He kept glancing around the club, it was dark but there were enough flashes of light that Bane’s looming figure would be easy to spot, if he was out on the floor. There was always the chance that Bane wasn’t even at the club, perhaps he didn’t work there anymore. That would be perfect and just his luck if the—alleged—owner of Shadows wasn’t even there.

Instead of spotting Bane, John’s gaze landed on someone else wearing a red scarf. John vaguely recognised him, remembering being told he was off limits. John didn’t head over, just kept an eye on the guy. He had a feeling that was his way to finding Bane.

When the bartender made the last call, John made his move, walking through the small crowd of people exiting the club.

“Is Bane here?” John asked when he was in the guy’s space. The music was still loud which made it hard to hear any response but the guy’s face said it all. He wasn’t surprised to see John at all and raised a single eyebrow before gesturing with his head for John to follow him.

John was led to the back room, the same one that Bane had confronted him in the last time John was there. He tensed, anticipating a similar scenario playing out. It wasn’t as though he was underage or making stupid claims in the middle of the club. It had been months since he had set foot on the premises, surely he hadn’t done anything wrong.

The guy in the red scarf didn’t knock, just opened the door and started speaking. “Brother, did you have a meeting you did not tell me about?”

‘Brother?’ John thought, not seeing the family resemblance  _ at all _ .

“No,” Bane answered, looking up and spotting John. “Get out.”

John turned, reaching out to open the door when a hand stopped him. He looked up, following that arm up to the red scarf guy’s face. John raised a questioning brow but there was no response. 

“What do you want, little bird?” Bane asked when the office door was closed, just the two of them in the office.

“What?” he asked, turning from the door.

“Do you prefer Robin?”

“How could you possibly know my name?” John asked, his original reason for being at the club completely forgotten in the face of this new information.

“I know a lot of things,” Bane replied cryptically.

That wasn’t how things were supposed to play out. John had planned everything. He was going to find Bane and have his vindication for ever being called a twink, but Bane had turned the tables, completely blindsided John. He collapsed into a chair, brows drawn together as he attempted to figure out where he had gone wrong.

“You look… well,” Bane said, clearly trying to cover John’s stunned silence.

John stared at Bane, trying to figure out his game. He couldn’t get a read on the larger man, though. “You look like a smug bastard,” he managed to bite out.

“I have heard worse.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” John snorted.

“You have not been here in months. I thought something had happened,” Bane said. It was something that would have sounded like a confession of feelings from anyone else, but out of Bane’s mouth, it was more like it had been a massive pain in the ass.

“Clearly I’m fine,” John said, gesturing to his new physique.

“Yes.” Bane nodded.

John watched as Bane’s eyes roamed over John’s body. It was thrilling to see Bane’s reaction play out right in front of him, but that was getting off track from his original plan.

“If you remember me, then you remember the last time I was here,” John said, desperate to get back on track.

Bane hummed but didn’t say anything.

“And you remember what you said,” John continued, trying vainly to get a response.

“I remember everything,” Bane said, voice unfairly even.

“You still think it’s true?”

John waited for a response, fingers tapping out a jerky rhythm that belied his true feelings. He was nervous, scared of what the response was going to be. It was stupid, he hadn’t worried about what anyone else thought. Well, except for Bane. If he was being honest, Bane was the reason for his physical change. He hadn’t wanted anyone to think of him as a twink.

“No,” Bane finally said.

John blew out the breath he’d been holding in, a warm, pleasant feeling flowing through him. He nodded and stood, having got what he’d come for.

“Where are you going?”

John froze, hand on the door handle. “Home,” he replied, looking over his shoulder in time to see Bane walking around the desk.

“We are not done here,” Bane said, stalking towards John.

He had never allowed himself to look too closely at Bane, at how large the man was, but now that he was moving closer, looming over him, John couldn’t help himself. Bane was impressive, powerful and overwhelming as he stepped into John’s personal space.

There was a beat, a single intake of breath, before they both moved, John’s hands flying to Bane’s shoulders as Bane pressed him back into the door.

John’s groan was cut off by Bane’s lips pressing against his own. They were just as soft as John had imagined, possibly more so, and the scars were delicate little flashes of sensation that had John desperate for more.

Bane pressed his hips into John’s and John could feel Bane’s erection against him, his own erection already straining against his pants. He hadn’t felt this turned on this quickly in years. He wanted so much more and he wanted it right them.

“I want you,” John panted, breaking the kiss and wiggling a hand between them to press against Bane’s clothed erection.

Bane growled and leaned back from John enough for John to reach his other hand between them and undo Bane’s trousers.

Just touching Bane through his underwear was the hottest thing John had done in his entire life. They were in an office, clutching at each other while Bane growled, and John couldn’t picture a more perfect scenario. This was turning out far better than he had wanted it to.

“I want to suck you,” John said, pushing Bane’s underwear down and squeezing his cock.

“No,” Bane replied and grabbed John’s thighs, lifting him off the ground.

John wrapped his arms and legs around Bane to stop from losing his balance. It was unwarranted, though. Bane clearly had no trouble holding John up despite John’s bulkier size. That shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was.

“Open your pants,” Bane commanded, pressing John against the door hard enough for it to creak.

John nodded and complied, slipping his arms from Bane’s shoulders to his own pants. He fumbled with the button, cursing the arousal coursing through him for making him clumsy.

Bane chuckled and squeezed John’s thighs. It was surprisingly calming, Bane’s touch soothing his excitement enough for John to get his trousers open. Bane shifted his grip on John a little and slid a hand around to John’s fly, fishing his cock out.

John hissed at the contact, hips pressing forwards seeking more friction. “Please,” John pleaded, unsure exactly what he was asking for. He wanted so much, he had no idea what to ask for first.

Bane slid his thumb over the head of John’s cock, drawing a moan out of him. John couldn’t handle the teasing, couldn’t handle going slow. He wanted fast, he wanted hard, and he wanted  _ now _ .

He swatted Bane’s hand out of the way and he gripped both of their cocks, pressing them together in a way that drew a small hiss from Bane. He needed both hands to get around Bane’s cock as well. It was too big for John to comfortably fit one hand around them. He vaguely wondered how big it would feel in his mouth and hoped he would get to find out one day. For now, he started to slide his hand up, dragging a thumb over the head of Bane’s cock to smear precome and make the glide smoother.

When John took control, Bane’s hand went back to gripping John’s thighs, fingers digging in hard enough that John was sure there were going to be bruises later. He grinned at the thought. If he was lucky, they would last days so he would have a reminder that this had actually happened.

John groaned as his hands sped up. He wanted to last, he really, really, did, but Bane was grinding his hips, pressing into John harder. It was too much, too overwhelming and he spilled over his hands and shirt.

Bane kissed John roughly, licking into his mouth and shifting his hips so his cock slid through the mess John had made.

John couldn’t do more than hold on, regaining enough of his senses to let go of his own sensitive dick and grip Bane’s tightly. That action drew a hiss from Bane and John broke the kiss, smirking as he rubbed a thumb over the head of Bane’s cock.

“Come on,” John murmured. “Make a mess of me.”

Bane’s hips snapped forwards as he came, groaning John’s name. “Robin.”

They stay pressed together, breathing heavily against one another for what felt like minutes. But Bane gained control of himself before John did.

John smiled shyly as Bane set him back on the ground. His legs shook, threatening to drop him to the ground but, somehow, he managed to stay standing as he slipped his dick back into his trousers. They were sticky and so was the hem of his shirt. He silently thanked whatever had made him wear a white t-shirt. The come stains were going to be less obvious for his exit but the shirt was never going to see the light of day again.

“Well… uh…” John frowned, his tongue feeling useless and heavy in his mouth. “Thank you.”

Bane laughed, eyes crinkling down at John. That was embarrassing.

“Right… I’ll just—” John stumbled over the words, turning around to try and leave the office as fast as he could. He wanted to run home and hide after thanking Bane for giving him an amazing orgasm. Why was he such an idiot?

“Stay,” Bane commanded and turned John around to face him. “We have matters to discuss.”

“I’m sorry. What do we need to talk about?” John asked, brows drawn together. He was still too frazzled to be able to follow whatever Bane was on about.

“Will you be coming back?”

“When?”

Bane raised his brows. It was unfair that Bane wasn’t nearly as affected by their earlier fun. How was John supposed to be able to think about anything but how much he really wanted to get Bane naked just to see how impressive he was without any clothes on?

“Right. I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest,” John admitted, hoping he was on the right track with his response.

“I would like to see you again.”

John blinked. “You would—”

“Yes,” Bane said with a nod. “I had thought perhaps you would be amenable after your enthusiastic response.”

John choked out a laugh, dragging a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I would be  _ amenable _ . Though,” he paused, “I won’t be able to come back for a few weeks. I got fired so I need to find something new.” He had almost forgotten about that, in the excitement of going back to Shadows. He still had to pay rent and his friends had already covered his share for the month. He couldn’t ask them to do it again.

“How would you like a job?” Bane asked, a small flicker of a smile teasing his lips.

“What did you have in mind?”

“We are looking for a new bouncer.”


End file.
